


His Dragon Reborn

by Zayrastriel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/M, Fluffy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zayrastriel/pseuds/Zayrastriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danaerys Targaryen; Danaerys, Born of the Storm.  </p><p>But in this moment, she is a little thing, trembling in your arms as she cries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Dragon Reborn

You come reluctantly to meet her, because do not fear war but the ocean is strange to you, and Westeros as far as the stars.  An army for a woman.

A fool would accept and so, Khal Drogo or not, you must be a fool.

Perhaps it is her innocence that draws you to her; she is young but not too young, older than some of the women in your khalasar who have already begun to service men.  If she were born Dothraki, she would be no different.

But if she were born Dothraki, she would not look as she does, pale and soft with long hair that shines like the centre of the sun, white and blinding.  You cannot help but look at her, touch her hair; she is foreign, fragile.

You feel her tears against the calluses on your hands and you fuck her harder.

 

~~~~~

 

Every time you enter her, you can’t believe it could feel any better; her body writhing as it is impaled by yours, her smooth white skin a complete opposite to your darkness, your war-torn hands and chest.

The first time she comes to you willingly, faces you as she pushes down on your cock and does not cry, you prove yourself wrong.

 _No_ – she proves you wrong, your tiny fragile delicate with iron in her bones and fire in her veins.

 

~~~~~

 

You know that she is the dragon her brother (that disgusting, scheming rat whose neck you would break in an instant if you did not know she still loves him) can never be, when she coughs, almost gags, and yet forces the rest of the heart into her tiny mouth.

Blood drips from her mouth, down her body.  Her lips are stained – and not just her lips, but the pale skin of her face.  Her eyes are wild, like those of an animal, burning fierce and crazed, and she could not speak a word now if she needed to –

 _She is beautiful_.

And you promise her everything; her Iron Throne, her Seven Kingdoms, for she cannot deserve any less.  You promise and you _know_ that you will not stop till you hand the world to her and your son.

 

~~~~~

 

It’s not a serious wound.

You cannot understand why she is concerned, why she calls the witch-woman to help you.

You are a warrior.

You are Khal Drogo.

And _you are dying_ , the woman whispers to you.

_No._

The Dark Stallion takes you quietly, its rider a not-man with an empty skull and soft, sonorous words that hum with kindness and _rest_ (you are so weary, so tired, and your body means nothing because you cannot feel itand you are too busy watching her tears and hearing her screams to care-)

 

~~~~~

 

And just as your spirit is about to surrender, as all do, to the Great Stallion, a sense of wrongness sweeps you by and pulls you, as if by a metal rope, _back_ -

But nothing connects, you are in your human flesh and you love her but _this is too much_.

 _End it_ , you order the witch-woman whore who killed your _son_ (for you felt his spirit leave instead, quiet and confused and so young) for you to return like this.

She does not seem to hear the words you try to force from your unresponsive mouth, but smiles as though she hears you somewhere else, in the depths of her mind.

“And now you understand, Khal Drogo,” the witch whispers in your ear.

 _End it,_ you shout to Ser Jorah, the knight of Westeros.  _End it and keep her_ safe _(but do not touch her no man can touch her she is mine)_.

He frowns slightly, but then shrugs his shoulders in dismissal and you know  that no one can hear you.

But you try once more, because you must.

 _My love_ , you whisper as she weeps.  _End it_.

For half a day you think that she cannot hear you, that she does not understand.

But then you feel her mouth around your cock, you feel her _try_ and you would give anything to show her but you _can’t_.

She is still crying as she pushes the pillow into your face and you love her more than ever.


End file.
